


Sammy and I

by writing1swat



Series: Sammy and I [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, No actual sex, Possible Continuation, SPN kink meme fill, Season 1, Wincest - Freeform, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing1swat/pseuds/writing1swat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme Fill: <strong>http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/85012.html?thread=32132628#t32132628</strong></p><p>before Sam took off to Stanford, Dean and Sam had started a sexual relationship. It was pretty equal: they switched regularly, and it was fairly equal. maybe Dean took a little more control, he was older, and it was his job to look after Sammy. And he loved making his brother writhe beneath him. </p><p>Now though, Sam has grown up. </p><p>Both boys want to restart their relationship, but Dean doesn't realise is that Sam has changed. A lot. He's discovered his Dom side, and it has been a fantasy of his for a long time to have his big brother as his willing (or not so willing) sub. </p><p>But Sam doesn't rush. He has more patience now. So little things, like he NEVER bottoms, and when Dean goes to turn the tables, he uses his strength and size to turn the tables til Dean is writhing underneath him. </p><p>He starts telling Dean what to do more and more. On little things, like what to wear, starting ordering more for him. </p><p>Dean doesn't think of himself as subby, so he doesn't even realise it is happening. </p><p>I want this to be a very loving relationship, but Sam as a strict Dom, slowly bringing Dean round.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sammy and I

**Author's Note:**

> Possible continuation. I might use this to practice writing sex scenes. I don't really know right now.

Sam was four when he learned what a hug was. Dean – big brother Dean – had showed it to him after dinner (which consisted of poptarts left over in the fridge) after Sam asked what the people in the TV box were doing. Dean had on his serious face and plopped in front of him on the floor, cross-legged (soon after, Sam mimicked his brother’s movement and for at least a month straight, he’d always sit cross-legged – “it’s called the indian-style, Sammy”). He said, “Okay, I’m gonna show you, Sammy. This is called a hug. You hug people that you love.”

“Like you and Daddy?” Sam asked, paying close attention as his big brother nodded.

“That’s right. You love us and we love you because we’re family. It’s what you do with family,” Dean paused before adding, “and girls I guess.” He spread out his arms far out and Sam copied him.

“Like this? Right? Am I doing it right, Dean?”

“Yeah,” Dean said before he lunged forward.

Sam was suddenly engulfed in his brother’s warmth. “Dean!” he squealed when Dean moved his hands over Sam’s sides tickling his little brother.

Sam was seven when he hugged his first girl. She was a classmate at a school in a random town they were staying in while Dad was doing some ‘work’ in Texas. They only stayed for a week but it was enough for Sam to develop his first random crush. It really sucked when Dad walked back in soot covered and exhausted but with a triumph grin on his face.

Sam was eleven when he received his first kiss. Not on the lips though. Just a small peck on the cheek but it was enough to make him flustered and stuttering the whole day. 

Sam was twelve when he first started to see his brother differently.

Sam was thirteen when he started to dream of Dean.

Fourteen when he noticed Dean looking right back.

Fourteen and a half when Sam had the courage to say something.

And then at the grand total of fifteen (a week before his sixteenth birthday), Sam and Dean started dating. It was all innocent hand touching and hugging.

On Sam’s birthday, Dean kissed him for the first time. It was the best goddamn present Sam could have asked for.

Sex didn’t happen until a few weeks before Sam went to college. (And somehow Dad never found out about any of this)

Sex with Dean had been different. Sam had been young and inexperienced and it seemed only natural for Dean, who was older and generally much more experienced, to take charge in their relationship.

Now, though…Sam was older and wiser and knew what he wanted.

He hadn’t seen his brother in years but from the few weeks that he had been with Dean, he could tell his brother hadn’t changed that much at all. As for Sam? He had.

 

 

When Dean went to pick up Sam, he was surprised by what he saw. His little brother definitely didn’t grow up so little. He was taller than Dean now and broad shouldered and had a lot more muscles than Dean remembered him having before he left. Dean had tried not to stare at his brother who just raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘really, Dean?’ 

Thank god the hot chick, Jess-something (who was definitely not Sam’s girlfriend because Dean asked), was there so Dean could goggle at her instead. 

Even though she wasn’t Sam’s girlfriend, it sucked when she went up in flames because Dean could tell she was still pretty close with his brother and it just plain sucked in general whenever someone died.

Driving cross-country with Sam to find Dad sparked up old memories and pretty soon, Dean was giving Sam glances before he could realize he was giving them. At least Sam was looking right back (because Dean would end up looking like a big moron if Sam wasn’t interested anymore).

In Wisconsin, Dean planned on asking Sam if he was really, totally sure if he wanted to restart whatever it was they had before Sam left (Dean had to try really hard not to add the ‘him’ at the end but damn it, Sam didn’t leave him specifically). He had the evening all planned out in his head. A candlelit dinner with expensive Champagne (with money he earned hustling pool) and a single rose in a small vase (like in those cheesy soaps he watched on occasion) because Sammy was a girl like that.

Dean casually offered to go to one of those fancy ass restaurants they passed earlier because he remembered how much Sam wanted normal and fancy ass restaurants were apparently normal, especially on special occasions like this. Sam had a thoughtful look on his face and said, “Okay.”

And Dean knew this was it. He pointed out a restaurant to Sam and his brother said again, “Okay. Whatever you want, Dean.” It was a strange thing to say because Sam made it sound like it was Sam that was doing this for Dean. 

An hour after they got back into their motel room, which stank and looked like it had seen better days, Sam declared he had to go somewhere for a few hours and that he was taking the Impala. Dean tried to protest but got the door slammed in his face for the effort.

It shouldn’t have surprised Dean what his brother did when they got to the restaurant but it was almost a perfect replica of what was in his head (except for the fact that he had been planning all this for Sam) he couldn’t help but be shocked anyway. There wasn’t much conversation during dinner because Dean was too busy trying to stare a hole in his plate and Sam was…well, he was Sam.

“So, um, good?” Sam asked after finishing half his plate.

Startled Dean looked up. “Uh, yeah. The food here isn’t so bad I guess.” And it wasn’t like he initially thought. He ate almost two-thirds of his lasagna by now and half his garlic breads.

Sam looked oddly pleased as he licked a stray sauce off his lips. “That’s good.” He paused to wrap the spaghetti around his fork. “So I wanted to talk to you about, uh, you know, the thing we had before I went to Stanford.”

Dean wasn’t sure why his heart was beating so fast. He knew this was coming, saw it since they left Stanford in the wind weeks ago. He had imagined countless scenarios on how he was going to bring the subject up with Sam, ran line after line after line on what he was going to say to Sam. And now Sammy was trying to take the initiative in his own awkward way. 

Dean tried to imagine Sammy at fourteen when he first confessed to Dean. 

Sam waved a fork in Dean’s face to which Dean blinked and lurched back. Sam grinned, obviously pleased with the response he got, and took a bite. 

“Glad to have you back with me, Dean. So as I was saying…you do want to, you know, get back together, right?”

Dean shrugged and stabbed into his plate. “Yeah, sure. I mean you want this too, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” 

It was like coming back home, as cheesy as that sounded.

Dean didn’t really notice it at the first, the differences in this relationship with Sam compared to Sam _my_. He supposed it was because he never thought to look for the differences (at first it was just the little things like, how many times Dean bottomed for his brother – 24 and counting – and how many times Sam bottomed – once or twice and that had only been at the beginning). When Dean did start to take more notice, he realized he didn’t really care.

But there were differences to notice, definitely.

Sam was taller and hard faced. He worked out nearly every day. And he was stronger than Dean, not by much but enough that it counted when it mattered (like in bed). 

Dean still had the bruise on his backside to show for it.

_“Dean, would you quit squirming?” Sam had said, pushing Dean down on the bed._

_Sam was being an annoying jerk and that was a ridiculous request because Dean knew exactly where Sam was leading Dean to with all this and he was getting kind of tired of always being on the bottom so Sam was a moron if he thought he could just order Dean to stay still and take it._

_“Get off’a me, Sammy, it’s your fucking turn,” Dean said, still squirming and clawing at his brother. “I’m not beneath biting.”_

_That was when his idiotic little brother decided to pull out the big guns, pouncing on Dean, his whole body covering Dean’s (180 lbs at least), leaving him flailing and gasping under the pressure. “Jesus fuck, get off me,” Dean wheezed, struggling weakly underneath Sam._

_Sam grabbed Dean’s hands in one powerful grip and pulled them above his head. “We’re doing this my way, Dean,” Sam said seriously before setting to work on his brother’s zipper with his free hand._

 

 

The sex was always good at least. Surprisingly Dean enjoyed taking it up the ass, more than he would ever let on, but he suspected Sam already knew (“I don’t moan, Sam.” “Um, yeah, you kinda do, Dean.”).

**TBC…maybe.**


End file.
